Seeking Searching
by Mannariel
Summary: *COMPLETE* A weary Legolas seeks something he has yet to find in life; happiness. A struggle for friendship. Not my usual plot style. Enjoy!


Author's Note: Yup, Guess what?! I'm back!!! It seems the muses run so rampant that they won't even let me sleep or wake peacefully anymore. Inspiration struck upon waking (at 10:30 pm?). This goes away from my traditional violent, tortured fics that my fans have grown used to.  
  
  
  
  
  
Summary: This is an emotional piece filled with purity and loneliness. A sorrowful heart seeks beauty and finds it in a stranger in the race of men. Please, please review because I crave what I've been without since ff.net shut down my last account!!! Enjoy-in honor of being alone with hopes of finding someone.  
  
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Seeking; Searching  
  
  
  
  
  
This is a tale not of love, or sex. It does not involve money, bad intentions, or ill will. There is no real villain in question although there is a visible resolution. It is much more basic than any of what you may be expecting. So simple; friendship. A concept many of us take for granted, but is the most sought after thing above all other things. This is a short tale to savor, much like a fine wine or an expertly composed piece of music; such is the nature of friendship as well. Read on as I explain a story of grief, loneliness, and total satiation. Simple, but not so.  
  
*****  
  
  
  
  
  
A cold figure peered through the darkness of a snow-smattered night. Physically, this creature was not cold, but emotionally; stoic and embittered and most disparagingly of all, lonely for centuries, chilling to behold in his sorrow. Ice had formed around a cynical heart that even the fires of Mordor could not hope to melt.  
  
Pale hair whipped with gusts of wind which drove needles of snow into already too sensitive eyes. There was no longer a choice. He would have to stop for the night. He could not stop here however, for it was far too open. He would have to take shelter in a cave if one could be found, or one of the many mountain crags and overhangs that made travel slow and treacherous to those who wandered too far off the trail. The mountain pass would not claim him this night.  
  
Six days, maybe a full week it would take to cross the high silent peaks to reach Rivendel. He did not even know why he bothered traveling there anymore. He didn't know why he bothered doing much of anything anymore. There was no point. The world is a vastly unforgiving place if one does not have a companion with which to share life with. A decade without a real friend, let alone one who could be loved, was bad enough. Going centuries seeking someone with pure intentions was enough to plunge the most optimistic being into black despondence.  
  
Plodding on against the piercing blasts of furious wind, Legolas, an Elf of the Sindar race and youngest prince of the realm of Greenwood the Great, spotted a dim glow through the dimness of the obscuring flakes of falling snow. Not fearing orcs at this altitude, he pursued what was most probably the heat of a fire with guarded caution. Orcs were not the only creatures who would seek to do one of his kind harm. Even his own race could be faulted with the aforementioned lately. Trust was not something he would give out easily.  
  
Finally close enough to see clearly but still not close enough to be seen, he observed a lone man sitting near a reasonably sized fire. After a few more moments of careful watching and calculating, he deduced that this human, whoever he was, was alone and could not possibly be threat to him. Standing completely still, he continued to watch the man, set in place as if his feet were trapped in stone. What fascinated him so? He could not tell.  
  
Without reason, the man lifted his head of thick, dark hair and looked out into the darkness, as if sensing the Elf's presence. He looked directly at Legolas and his gaze seemed to penetrate the blonde to the very core, though he could not possibly have seen the fair creature from where he sat. Or could he?  
  
No. That was foolish for him to even think. After a time, the man lowered his head again, poking the embers with a long stick as if nothing had transpired. Nerves perhaps; the night and nothing more. Paranoia caused by fatigue and tricks of wind and flames.  
  
Legolas moved forward, spell finally broken, and stepped silent as a shadow into the circle of light from the fire. Without lifting his head, the man spoke.  
  
"What would one of the fair ones be doing traveling alone over the mountain in this weather?"  
  
Caught of guard by the man actually sensing his presence a long time ago, the Elf shot back "Why is a man of so much more sense than a lone Elf, doing the same professed crime?" He did not mean to sound so sarcastic, but he was unnerved by the human's senses.  
  
"I meant no offense my friend. I just meant that it is unsafe for any traveler, man or beast, to be walking alone in these ranges at night. Storms come up in the blink of an eye that could burry small towns, so for a lone wanderer to disappear, it would be no big feat. Unless I am mistaken, this peak has already defeated bigger and more powerful creatures than yourself." The strange man looked down into the flames again and said nothing more, content with the silence that fell over them.  
  
Legolas stood where he was, unsure of whether or not he would be welcome to stay or if he should seek rest elsewhere. After some inner debate, he at last allowed himself to sit and recover his weary limbs. The cold did not really bother the elf much and snow proved to be little to no hindrance to creatures who could simply mount the snow and walk upon it instead of sinking down and plowing through. No, it was his thoughts that tired him this night like so many others before it.  
  
The man broke the silence that had settled between them, "Would you like to eat?"  
  
The prince shook his head in reply and moved to grab his bedroll. He decided on the dreams of his kind rather than the conversation of man.  
  
An overhanging rock sheltered the spot where they stayed that night, protecting from wind and all but the occasional wave of snowflakes that blew down in a swirling wind. The fire still burned and the dark haired human looked at the settling Elf. He finally thought to ask a name of the creature that he would be spending a night of silence with.  
  
"Legolas," came the short reply, "and who might I be speaking with?"  
  
"Strider." He extended a hand over the low flames and the Elf clasped it warily. As was mentioned before, he had a hard time trusting anyone, let alone a man of questionable background and intentions. "Where, may I ask, are you headed in such foul weather?"  
  
"Rivendel to see Lord Elrond. What keeps you in the mountains on such nights?"  
  
"I am also headed towards the haven. It may be prudent to travel together. It never hurts to share company with someone." The man sounded sincere. There seemed to be no suggestion in his voice of ill intent, no malice or anger or cruelty. This was rare to find in humans-usually they reeked of it.  
  
After the careful deliberation that one would normally reserve for truly baffling decisions, the blonde nodded his consent. Then he settled down flat on his back opposite the man with the fire separating them. He let himself drift into a light sleep, warm under the blankets that covered him.  
  
Soon enough, sleep deepened, dreams darkened, and a small cry whipped the ranger's head towards the slumbering Elf. The creature had rolled onto his side facing the man and a pale hand crept out from underneath the blankets. Carefully, so slowly, it crept forward through air and space, reaching out for something. The arm extended farther and the man watched in silent thrall. The hand inched closer and closer to the flames, but Legolas did not feel the heat.  
  
In one swift motion, Strider jumped up from where he sat and grabbed the hand before it closed over the searing embers of the burnt wood. The Elf jolted awake in panic and wrenched his arm free, startled by the sudden motion and close proximity of the human whom he thought was sitting across the fire. Before he could speak the man beat him to it.  
  
"What were you doing?!"  
  
"I was sleeping! What are you doing?" The ranger realized his hand still held the slender appendage and immediately released it.  
  
"I was saving you from some painful burns. You would do good to sleep farther from the fire for you have some odd habits of which you are obviously unaware."  
  
Legolas looked at him in confusion but did as was suggested, sliding his possessions as well as his body farther from the flames. He could not recall what in his dreams had prompted him to reach out but it was lucky that the man had noticed. Sleep beckoned once more and he followed it into dreams.  
  
Strider settled himself again and readied his bedroll as well. The fire would last the night and nothing more needed to be done. He fell into sleep thinking about the blonde but a few steps away.  
  
*****  
  
Morning dawned, cold and blustery as before if not more so. Stiffness was shaken out of limbs which spent the night on the hard earth and travel resumed. The males moved in silence, the voices of the sweeping wind over the plains of the mountain being the only conversation heard. Strider halted their toils mid afternoon and insisted they regain their strength with a quick meal. The snow had not let up and it was hard for the human to push through the deep drifts. The rate at which they moved would cause the Elf to arrive a couple of days later than planned, but he really did not mind. He felt less lonely with this one person than he did when surrounded by many vacuous courtiers back home.  
  
(A/N: mmmmmmmmm. . . peanuts.)  
  
"Would you not eat? I have plenty of rations to share if that is your concern."  
  
Legolas considered the dark haired man's generous offer but turned it down in the end. He had nothing with which to pay the man and was not used to taking charity. He didn't feel hungry. He grew weaker with each passing day as he had for weeks. His clothing did not fit him properly anymore and his own body had started to consume the muscle that had been many years in the refining. He cared not.  
  
Long ago had the prince given up on love. All who would seek to court him did so as a means of using him as a stepping-stone to further their own wealth or position in society. So accustomed was he to being used that he stopped seeking out the companionship of others, resigned to a life of being surrounded by others but completely and utterly alone. It was not that there weren't those that cared for him; it was just that he seldom noticed when they did. And if they did, it wasn't that they actually cared enough for him to provide someone to turn to when he needed it. Forget love; he now only sought companionship. . . someone to take his pain.  
  
They continued, speaking not, one barely aware of the other. Darkness began to fall again; early in the winter months, and shelter was sought out and found once again, in the form of a hollow under an outcropping. Strider prepared a meal later in the evening and once again offered it to his ghost of a travel companion. It was again turned down.  
  
"You must eat! You may be immortal, but you still need food to survive, even if you are an Elf."  
  
"And what would you know of Elves?" Legolas challenged.  
  
"I grew up with them. I am a son of Rivendel. In fact, I am foster son to Lord Elrond." Strider judged the Elf's reaction as slightly stunned. It wasn't common knowledge nor was it very usual for a mortal to be taken in by an immortal. In Legolas' mind, this meant that this Strider had to be very special-far more than he seemed.  
  
"Now you are going to eat if I have to spoon feed you myself." The ranger handed the blonde prince a bowl containing a thick soup prepared simply by re-hydrating vegetables and adding dried meat. It was rather good and Legolas took it, secretly grateful.  
  
After a few spoonfuls, the Elf's stomach, so used to being empty, reacted violently which resulted in him dry-retching but still managing to retain the contents of what he'd just eaten. Food had never made him feel so sick.  
  
Concerned, Strider stopped eating his own meal and eyed the Elf.  
  
"I am not feeling very well," Legolas explained as if that would dismiss his actions.  
  
"Since your kind don't fall ill easily, I'm going to assume it's not a simple stomach flu that ails you. Why did you insist on starving yourself?"  
  
"I didn't starve myself. You are mistaken. I really just don't feel well."  
  
"Take off your shirt."  
  
Legolas' head snapped to attention sensing a sudden threat. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Take off your shirt. I'll believe you when I see that I can't count every rib."  
  
"I don't have to stand for this." He made to get up, but the feeling of the rising contents of his stomach stopped him once more.  
  
Strider put down his own bowl and rose, advancing on the Elf. Legolas panicked at the sudden movement and reached for his knives strapped across his back. In response, strider drew his great sword and knocked the blades from weakened hands before they had a chance to move. Expecting the worst, the blonde drew his knees up to his chest and threw his arms over his head, whimpering softly.  
  
Startled by this uncalled for reaction, Strider threw down his sword and kneeled behind the now trembling creature. Instead of striking out, he rested his hands gently half way down the Elf's back. Just as he had expected, he felt the vertebrae poking out under his palms, every rib clearly distinguished under his fingertips. He removed his hands then and gently gripped the elf's emaciated arms, drawing them off his head and down to his sides.  
  
It had finally caught up with him. The lack of food and then its sudden reintroduction to his system caused the archer to relieve himself of his meal. The man behind him held his hair back as he vomited in the snow. When he was done, he straightened up again and folded his hands in his lap in silence. He kept his head bowed and made no protest when the man wiped his mouth for him.  
  
"Why did you starve yourself?" the question came again and Legolas had no will to resist answering. The only problem now was that he had no answers. He just shook his head and stared at his hands. "You must eat something. It's the only way you will begin to recover." The man took up the discarded bowl again and placed it into the bony hands. He sat there and watched, making sure the Elf ate at least half of its remaining contents.  
  
Satisfied, the man took back the bowl and handed the blonde prince his knives, re-sheathing his own sword. He then laid out Legolas' bedroll and bid him lay down for the night. Without resistance, the Elf did as he was asked. When he was settled, Strider laid a hand on his arm and rubbed it in a comforting gesture.  
  
"Rest now, my friend. I won't pry into your life, but as long as you are with me I will take care of you. And I will make sure you eat and will nag until you do. Rest."  
  
The ranger returned to his own meal which was now quite cold, but he did not complain. What an enigma he had encountered. Usually Elves loved life so much. This one did not seem to care one way or another.  
  
Stoking the fire, Strider sat, deep in conflicting thoughts when he caught a familiar movement from the corner of his eye. The same pale hand crept out from under the neutral colored blankets and reached out into the night, grasping at something it obviously could not find. The smooth brow furrowed and the most mournful sound the ranger had ever heard from an Elf escaped the blonde's lips. His hand finally settled on the cold ground and a soft sob came from the golden prince. He withdrew his hand again and curled it against his body, not quite able to pull it back under the blankets. The man wanted nothing more than to tuck it safely away again, but he remained where he was. He watched a tear slide slowly down a smooth cheek of the elf and soaked into his silken hair. Legolas remained as he was for the rest of the night.  
  
*****  
  
Dawn's light started to penetrate the gloom of the previous night. The human awoke shivering, his dark hair sticking out wildly from his head. The temperature had dropped dramatically through the night and did not show signs of warming up as the day approached and the hour grew later. Remembering his peculiar companion, Strider turned his attention to the Elf. The fire had died during the night and only a small wisp of smoke obscured the ranger's view of the prince.  
  
Legolas' hand was still outside of the blanket, now showing slightly bluer tones. He also shivered within his blankets. Normally he was unaffected by the elements, but he was not well. The cold began to penetrate where previously it had not and weakness and stiffness had taken over.  
  
Instantly regretful that he hadn't followed his instincts the night before, Strider rose and approached the waking Elf. Taking the cold limb between his own hands, he rubbed them vigorously until some of the warmth began to return. He knew that it would be very painful as the blood returned to the frozen fingers and held his breath as Legolas became more aware and made small noises of pain. The man continued to hold the hand between his own, watching the cringing face in concern. The blonde shivered the whole time.  
  
Finally, Legolas withdrew his hand and tucked it into the blankets, wordlessly pulling the fabric tighter around his body. The ranger walked back to his own bundle and retrieved the warm blankets, returning to add them to the cloth already draped around the shivering body. He then threw another faggot onto the nearly dead coals and stirred the pit until a few flames licked at the dry wood. When it blazed, he returned to the Elf's side.  
  
He pulled the blonde into a sitting position and settled beside him. He then unwrapped the added layers of his blankets from the thin body and rewrapped them around both of them. Finally, without hesitation this time, he pulled the other male into his arms and used his own heat to warm them both. It worked quite effectively. Before long, both of their shivers had subsided and a comfortable temperature encompassed both bodies.  
  
Regretfully, he decided that they couldn't stay here. It seemed the cold had no intention of leaving but instead dropped further and intensified. He expressed his worry to the pointed ear in front of him.  
  
"I agree. We should pack as quickly as possible and be off."  
  
"Not without eating first. You can't make me forget that quickly." With that, Strider was up and about, preparing a thick porridge to warm their insides. Putting a smaller portion into a bowl he handed it to Legolas. He then watched like a hawk to make sure that it all disappeared while at the same time consuming his own breakfast. Pleased with the empty bowl he was handed back, he proceeded to pack his stuff and left his companion to do the same. Before long, they were off again.  
  
As they traveled, a thought came to the man. "So who is it that you miss so much in your sleep?"  
  
Legolas snorted scornfully and answered, "You can't miss what you never had."  
  
"But you can crave it. Who is it you crave? Who can possibly make you reach out like that into nothingness every night?"  
  
"Every night?" the Elf looked puzzled. He was not even aware that he had physically done anything. "It is no one. . . and it is anyone." He fell silent again and the man left him to his thoughts.  
  
They made much progress that day. Perhaps they would get to Rivendel sooner than the blonde archer had anticipated. The cold was more bearable when they moved and was certainly better still without the wind pushing them back and cutting through their clothing. However, it was all the worse when they stopped for the night. It was raw. . .it was penetrating. No matter the adequacy of the shelter, with no wind to cut down or protect against, it was impossible to keep warm.  
  
They built up the fire much more than they had prior to this night and sat side by side rather than across from each other, as if the closer proximity could stave off the chill. Unfortunately, they were still too far apart to even sense heat from each other.  
  
They also lay side by side that night rather than opposite each other. As before, Legolas fell asleep almost immediately. And as before, Strider watched him. Even though he had been almost completely silent the whole time, the dark haired human reflected, it had still made the journey more enjoyable. He sensed a bond with this one that he hadn't felt with any of his other friends. They shared the common thread of an isolation felt even when seemingly surrounded. Strider understood what plagued the Elf now. It was simple loneliness. Simple to begin with, but made complicated by years of cruel blades twisted in a tormented mind-each new disappointment adding to a burden already too great for such a light hearted creature to bear. His seclusion was killing him.  
  
Strider's heart wept for the centuries of desolate yearning never once relieved in this stranger. Compassion so strong filled him that he longed to scoop the Elf into his arms and rock him until the end of time or at least until the pain subsided. He wanted to help and he wanted nothing in return. He sensed that if he gained the friendship of this one golden elf, he would have more personal fulfillment and loyalty than he could find in the totality of what his other friends or even his stepbrothers offered. He wanted that. He needed it just as much as Legolas did, he just did not realize it until now. The man suddenly wondered how long it had take Legolas to figure out what he needed but thought he could never have.  
  
The ranger watched the golden prince's breath leave his lips and form slowly shifting vapor clouds above his head; it offered an aesthetically pleasing foreground to the black backdrop of the night. The mouth closed as the Elf shifted in his sleep, breathing now through his nose for a while. Turning on his side, Legolas reached once more into the space beside him.  
  
This is what Strider had been foregoing sleep to wait for. He couldn't stand the thought of that hand finding nothing but cold ground or empty air yet again. Waiting for it to descend, he placed his own hand underneath it, waiting. At last, he felt the smooth warm skin touch his calloused palm. He allowed it to register in Legolas' mind that there was more than just cold hard earth beneath his fingers before the man closed his hand around the blonde's. He held his breath as the Elf struggled to pull himself from an exhausted slumber.  
  
When bright but blurry green eyes opened and looked at the darker larger hand holding his, Legolas brought his other hand to his mouth in awe. He felt the warmth keenly as if he had never been touched before. And in affection, he truly had not been. He understood that this meant someone had accepted him for who he was, not his title or how far he could get him or her in life and status. He had not even mentioned that he was a prince prior to this and he doubted the other man knew. A flood of inner warmth flooded his body and he was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of being held in someone's eyes as a friend; belonging somewhere.  
  
The ranger who was more than that, watched the many emotions flit over watering eyes. Then he watched as the tears began to fall. To his surprise, Legolas shimmied closer and grasping the hand in both of his, brought it to his chest. Strider leaned forward and placed his free arm around the blonde in front of him, drawing him closer.  
  
The Elf complied willingly and proceeded to press his face to the man's chest and cry. He let the relief show through the flow of his tears while at the same time releasing decades of pain and misery and an agonizingly solitary existence. He wanted nothing more than this, if this was the last thing he would ever feel. He had someone to share with, someone to trust. . .someone to take care of him. He had needed this far sooner. He realized without it, he might have very well died in the crossing of these mountains.  
  
Strider soothed him with soft words and encouragements as well as gentle strokes to his ears and his hair. Soft sobs shook the frail frame, but it was not anything to be concerned about. . .it was something to be welcomed and cherished. Tears soaked his shirt, but he welcomed them. Thoughts of what the archer had said that day returned. 'It is no one. . .and it is anyone,' he had said. It made so much sense. The man was happy to be someone or anyone. It was all the same in the end.  
  
"You don't have any idea what you've done."  
  
"I've done exactly what you needed."  
  
"And I thank you for it. I've been seeking for centuries, but not found anyone who I could even trust, let alone talk to." A shy question followed: "Keep me company?" The face pulled away from his chest and he looked into the deep green eyes.  
  
"Always." He watched a smile form on the beautiful face and the head tucked against him again. He rearranged the blankets as best he could with one hand so that both sets of blankets could be shared. "You're not the only one who needed someone. I will tell you the whole story later. There is much you need to know about me."  
  
"And you will have much time to explain it all." The Elf enjoyed the deep rumble in the man's chest as he talked. He felt safe as they were. "Take me home?"  
  
Smiling, Strider, the chief of the Dunedain as well as the last remaining heir to the throne of Gondor looked down at his new found companion. "Let me be the first to welcome you to Rivendel, Prince Legolas."  
  
*****  
  
And so ends the tale of sorrow and begins a chapter of it's own; a new life begins for both parties involved. In this case it ended well, in many others it does not. A good friend is hard to come by so if you have one, if you are looking for one, and if you eventually find one, love them. Cherish them above all other things and you will feel like the richest person in the world.  
  
  
  
  
  
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Ok, I know that was far from my usual topics, but I thought I'd write something that might actually strike a chord with someone. There were paragraphs in this story that actually made ME shiver when I read them and I hope I can produce the same effects in you. Like it or hate it, tell me what you thought. I know, one way or another, you'll have an opinion-you always do. 


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